


the gods frown upon us

by nocakesformissedith



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: F/F, I am so sorry, OOC-ness, ambiguous situation, oh spencer baby, possible ghost-sex, takes place in season four
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-05-31 03:59:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6454813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nocakesformissedith/pseuds/nocakesformissedith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alison visits Spencer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the gods frown upon us

Spencer smells someone walk into her bedroom before she hears the door creaking open. The smell of vanilla and fabric softener mingling together is so familiar that with her weary state of mind Spencer is too tired to be concerned. Her temples pound, eyes adjusting in the darkness as she struggles to wake herself up, groaning at the pain in her neck from her awkward position.  
"Wow, and they say _I'm_ the dead one." Jolting up to sit up in her bed, Spencer's jaw drops at the sight of her long-missing best friend. Spencer's eyes strain to look at her, arms crossing over her chest and head tilting toward the left. The blood red dress, tight and clinging to every curve in Alison's body, appears almost purple in the bluish moonlight.

Her lips, red and glossy, contour into a mocking pout, "I'm disappointed, really, I am. I was expecting a bigger reaction than this," she drawls, shaking her head side to side in an exaggerated show of vexation.  
Spencer finds herself unable to speak, her lips quivering as Alison walks over to her. She feels a wet chill on her cheeks and realizes for the first time that she had been crying. Refusing to let show a sign of weakness to be used against her, Spencer holds her chin up and does not wipe the tear away.  
"Alison, how... what are you doing here, do you-" after finally finding her voice, Spencer halts her questioning as Alison's warm hand presses to her cheek when Spencer feels the bed dip as she sits next to her, gently rubbing tears away as she hums quietly.  
It takes Spencer a moment to make out what Alison had been singing, just loud enough for Spencer to hear it. Almost barking out a shocked laugh as she recognizes it, Spencer furrows her brow at her friend's raw audacity.

  " _Alison, I know this world is killing you, oh Alison, my aim is true..."_

Rolling her eyes, Spencer snaps at Alison, "I'm glad to see resurrection hasn't stifled your sense of humor." Visibly unaffected by her friend's sarcasm, Alison grinned, "Isn't it great? I know you missed it." Narrowing her brown eyes at mirthfully gleaming blue eyes, Spencer scoffs, frowning.

"Well, did you miss me?" Spencer can just barely register hands on her shoulder before she is gently pushed down, Alison crawling on top of her. As she starts to stammer out a reply (not the truth, that 'yes, always,' but close enough) she feels Alison slip her leg between Spencer's, thigh rubbing on her loins, spreading a frictional heat throughout Spencer's whole being- burning hot on her cunt and sending a red flush to her cheeks.

At Spencer's blushing, Alison smirks, teeth wide and bright and Spencer can't stop thinking about wolves; fairly tales about red capes and girls lost in the woods. The better to eat you with, my dear. Alison reaches out, holding a brown strand of hair in her fingers, rubbing it together gently, intimately. She brings it up to her nose, inhaling softly, smelling the cherry scent of her conditioner. Alison leans close, breath hot and moist against Spencer's ear before she murmurs, "Because I missed you." She gently moves Spencer's hair away from her neck, slowly pressing a soft kiss to her collar bone, tongue gently licking against her skin. "I missed this too, you know. Boys are great, I mean- don't get me wrong, but they just don't understand our bodies as intimately as us girls do."

  
Us girls. Us girls. Spencer is reminded of how she had felt when she found out about Emily, about what Alison was doing to her (too) and feels a long suppressed resentment ( _was she using me too? was I just practice? did she ever crawl into Aria's or Hanna's bed like this?_ ) In lieu of answering Alison, Spencer grabs her hair and pulls the blonde up to her face, pressing a hard kiss against Alison's mouth. She pulls Alison's bottom lip beneath her teeth, sucking on it and tasting cinnamon on her tongue.  
Spencer, on impulse, decides to reach out and paw at Alison's breast, soft and warm and god, Spencer hates her so much, but she missed her so much more. She missed Alison's curly gold hair and her laugh, missed Alison reassuring Spencer that she was just as good as Melissa, missed Alison challenging her, missed fighting with Alison, and she missed Alison's soft curves and softer lips. She twists her hand, pinching and pulling on Alison's nipple till she's sure it must be red, and she can hear Alison's breathing starting to speed up and soon the blonde is panting ungracefully and Spencer feels a sick sort of pride.

Spencer relaxes her grip, letting her hand drop to the side of her legs when she feels Alison lightly trail her fingers along the hem of her pant's waistline, Alison's other hand tilting her her head up to have her look at Alison, fingers prodding at her slightly-gaping mouth, and Spencer finds the blonde staring at her, silently asking for permission to go further than they ever had before. Spencer can feel her heard pounding, caught in her throat as her legs tremble with nerves and ... excitement. When Spencer nods her head, Alison quickly pushes her fingers inside her mouth, and her thumb rests on her chin as her forefinger and middle finger caress her tongue, the salty taste of her skin tantalizing and inviting. Alison feels around for a little longer, exploring, before gently ordering the obliging brunette to 'suck',' Alison's knee, still grinding against her cunt, sending blood rushing to her clit and almost painfully arousing, lowers down enough that Alison could pull down Spencer's pants. Yet, the blonde otherwise stays perfectly still, blue eyes bearing into brown until Spencer finds herself nodding her head enthusiastically despite the reservations still running around in her head (Toby's anger and betrayal, Emily's heartbroken disappointment, the brother they share, the fact that Alison is supposed to be, well, dead).

Without missing a beat, Alison immediately went to work untying Spencer's pant strings with shaking, yet nimble fingers. Staring down at Spencer intently, the blonde hooked her thumbs under the waistband of both her pants and her underwear, lightly scraping nails her hips, and slowly pulled them down, shifting her knee away and her body lower to pull them off her legs entirely. Leaning her cold chin against Spencer's hip, Alison grins lasciviously before slowly, languidly pressing her forefinger inside. The burning, stretching sensation hurts more than Spencer had anticipated and she winces slightly in pain. As she tenses up in her discomfort, she unwittingly clenches her walls tighter around the intruding finger, worsening the pain. Thankfully, the blonde's thumb soon starts massaging Spencer's clit, rolling it around in slow circles, both soothing her and making her thighs quiver as her cunt throbs in both pain and the slowly re-building pleasure. Soon the hurt is all but gone and Spencer sighs in relief right as Alison starts to slide in another finger, thumb still rubbing on her clit. Losing her wits in a sea of dizzying pleasure and heat, Spencer closes her eyes and falls down onto her pillows. Her toes curl and her hands clench at the bed sheets beneath her and-

"You did it you know," Alison whispered, quietly enough that Spencer had to strain to her it over the sound of her own sighs and groans. Opening her eyes in confusion, Spencer's breathing is stopped by a gasp catching in her throat at the sight of the smiling corpse on her (in her). Golden locks seemed almost black, covered in dried blood and clumps of dirt. A morbid comparison of Alison's Vivian Darkbloom alias flashes in Spencer's mind.

The fingers inside of her, no longer warm and slick, feels as thought they were pruning up, nails still growing and sharp. Spencer thinks she might be bleeding; there is a scraping, scratching pain that Spencer strains to register past her terror.

Alison's smile widens into a grin, rotten skin giving way to rotten, yellowing teeth and letting dirt spill down her chin, wet and wrong against pale, yellowed skin, "You killed me."

Just before she can scream, Spencer jolts awake, cold and damp, rain drizzling on and around her. Almost crying in relief, she glances at her surroundings. She does scream, when she realizes where she is; hands covered in mud, on her bare knees in the Dilaurentis's backyard. Scampering away from the mess of earth and roots, the bottom of her skirt slapping against her thighs, Spencer never stops to wonder what she had burying in the ground.  
(Or what she has been digging for.)

**Author's Note:**

> (( crawls into a hole for the rest of my life ))


End file.
